


The Little Tike Name Lola

by Shattered_Mirrors_and_Lace



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daycare, Baby!Clint Barton, Baby!Phil Coulson, Don't Touch Lola, Kid Fic, M/M, Phil and Clint were daycare sweethearts, Pre-Slash, Slash, Toddlers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shattered_Mirrors_and_Lace/pseuds/Shattered_Mirrors_and_Lace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At three years old, Phil was a good kid. He kept to himself most of the time. He picked up his toys when he was finished playing with them, listened to his teachers, ate very well for breakfast, lunch, and snack, learned his school lessons to the tee, and slept soundly during nap, cuddling with his treasured Captain America teddy bear.</p>
<p>	However, outside play was a different story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Tike Name Lola

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt/fic wish by Adamantsteve! Notes at the end
> 
> Warning: It's not beta'd, and it's my first fic on AO3.

Phil was good kid, he really was. 

His mother was the Vice-President of Student Affairs at the University and a much respected, and unimaginably kind woman, while his father worked as a Local Detective on the police force. Mrs. Coulson had him enrolled at the University’s Child Care Center when he was 2, seeing it as an opportunity for him, not only to socialize and get a head start on his schooling, but for her as well, having him no more than a fifteen minute walk away from her office, just so she can check up on her son.  
Mrs. Coulson always tried to bring Phil to school around 8:30, no later than 9 am, walking him to his classroom, helping him place his favorite Captain America backpack in his cubby and planting a warm kiss on his cheek before leaving for her office, reminding him to listen to his teachers and that she would see him later. Other than the first two weeks of starting at the Center, Phil never cried when his mother left, simply hugged her back and took his place on the carpet, sitting with the other children listening to the story they would be reading for the week. 

At three years old, Phil was a good kid. He kept to himself most of the time. He picked up his toys when he was finished playing with them, listened to his teachers, ate very well for breakfast, lunch, and snack, learned his school lessons to the tee, and slept soundly during nap, cuddling with his treasured Captain America teddy bear.

However, outside play was a different story.

When it was time for outside play, easily the children’s favorite part of the day, good weather permitting. It was Phil’s favorite time of day, too, mostly because he got to spend about an hour with Lola, a red Little Tikes Coup Car. As soon as the door opened, Phil would rush over to the shaded outdoor play-set and claim the car, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He would get into the car and just glare and scowl at anyone who tried to even touch the car. And it couldn’t be one of the other three red or any of the four black police car Little Tikes cars, it had to be one in specific, the one with all the buttons and stickers still in place, any other car, red or black, wouldn’t do.

The toddler became quite possessive with that one particular car, as many teachers noticed, but he took rather good care of it, often quietly conversing with it. However, the moment another child, mostly a boy, touched the car with the intention of using it, Phil would simply glare and would grumble out “Don’t touch…she’s mine!”

Despite his teacher’s reprimands of “Phil, you need to share” and “Phil, play nice with your friends!” the child never relinquished his hold of the beloved car, not until it was time to go back inside for lunch. When the teachers called them to gather at the door, Phil would dutifully place his car with the others, against the fence that separated the Toddler Playground from the Preschool one, always looking over his shoulder before they walked back inside, to make sure Lola was safe.

His teachers never really thought of it much— Phil was one of their better behaved kids, very smart, and never acted out in violence, just simply glared and said “Don’t touch”, so they cut the boy some slack. However, that changed one day when another child was insistent on playing with Lola, trying to get Phil out of the car by either opening the door or standing in Phil’s way. It escalated when the boy kicked the car, after teachers told him to find another car, like the black police car along the fence, which resulted in Phil screaming “THAT’S MY FRIEND LOLA, DON’T TOUCH HER! DON’T HURT HER!” and then shoving the boy rather harshly into the ground. The end result was the other child sporting an angry, red scrape along his cheek, and Phil ended up sitting at the timeout table with one of the Teacher Assistants, crying and kicking, for a good ten minutes. Lola was also put away, out of reach from the other children and Phil, until he finally settled down and spoke, eyes determined. “Lola’s my friend, and he hurt her! He kicked her!! I got mad…”

The assistant spoke softly, her hand coming up to smooth back a lock of his hair. “ I understand you were mad. But Phil, sometimes you just need to come and tell us if someone is bothering you. Teacher Sarah and I say he kept following you but you already pushed him when we got to you. Victor has a big owie on his cheek now.” She let out a sigh before continuing. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, but I’m going to have to talk to your Mama about this….Maybe instead of playing just with the car-“

“Lola.”

“Right, Lola. Maybe you should spend outside time playing with your friends instead of just with Lola.”

Phil only looked away, eyes glistening with tear, still upset, blue eyes defiant as ever. “Lola’s my friend. I don't like the other kids.”

The incident was brought up to Mrs. Coulson when she came to pick Phil up that afternoon. Mrs. Coulson apologized and explained that his aunt had brought Phil a similar Little Tike Car for Christmas a year ago, and Phil so happened to name it Lola. His mom went on to explain how her son was obsessed with the car, often talking to it when he played. Mrs. Coulson let out a sad, little sigh. “I’m so sorry about this. I’ll make sure to talk to Philip about it when we get home.”

The next day, Phil still ran to Lola, but this time, he stayed away from the other kids, keeping his distance as he rode in car. 

It was a few weeks after the incident that a new student, a two and a half year old name Clint Barton, enrolled at the Center. While Clint wasn’t in Phil’s classroom, their classes did share a similar outdoor play time. The first few days, Clint held on tightly to one of the Assistant Teachers, following her wherever she went, despite the amount of coaxing for him to join the other children and play. It wasn’t until half way through outside play that Clint looked over to the corner and spotted Phil, sitting in a red Little Tike, just watching the other kids play on the slide, before maneuvering his car around a few feet.

The blonde child, cautiously made his way over to the older child, tugging is teacher along as a lifeline. They made there way over to Phil and stopped about three feet short of the car, which automatically earned him a glare from the car’s occupant. 

“Now Phil,” reprimanded the teacher softly with a gentle smile, “This is out new friend in Teacher Jess’ class – Clint. He only wants to see, kiddo.” 

“My Lola,” said the three year old, almost shrinking back into the car with a pout on his face. He watched at the corner of his eye as the new blonde kid looked over the Little Tike, smiling over at Phil before tugging his teacher back to the splash table. 

For weeks following their first meeting, it became almost like clockwork that Clint would watch Phil in Lola from a far, never once saying a word, just looking and smiling at the older child for about ten minutes before running off to go join a little red-head, Natasha, and Steve, play in the house area, fighting pretend monster. Over time, Phil got used to Clint watching them, only giving him a warning glare if the little blonde got too close for comfort.

It wasn’t until about month after their first meeting, that Clint didn’t show up to the Center. When the children were outside, everyone took to their usual spots, Natasha and Steve fighting monsters, Tony building some elaborate bridge or tower out of jumbo sized plastic legos (often dragging Bruce from his own project to help him build, a teacher scolding “Tony, how many times do I need to tell you- lead Bruce, Tony, don’t just drag him by the arm!”), Nick and Maria on top of the play-set, and Phil in Lola.  
He glanced around at first, waiting for Clint, but after a long period of time, he slowly began driving around the play-set in Lola, making sure to keep his distance from the other children. There was no sign of Clint anywhere. It wasn’t until one of the teachers knelt down beside him, “Are you looking for Clint?” there was a hesitant single nod, “I’m sorry, Phil. Clint’s going to be out for a few days. He got really sick.”

Phil looked over at the teacher, puzzled. “He sick?”

“Yeah, but he’ll get better soon, once the doctor gives him some medicine.”

“Medicine to get better?”

“You got it, Buddy.” 

He didn’t see Clint for five days.

It wasn’t until the sixth day that one of Clint’s teachers came into the classroom, asking if she could borrow Phil for a few minutes. Clint’s teacher (Miss Marie, he thought her name was), asked for him to hold his hand while they went down the hall, to a big room that Phil hadn’t been to before. The big room had a lot of big kid toys, toys that he didn’t have in his class, but that he had seen with the older kids. But that caught his eye was one of the teachers, Miss Abby, on the big black couch with Clint. She was reading him a story while he leaned against her, a small breathing mask covering his nose and mouth, while little tubes to nebulizer that was in a penguin case.

Clint’s eyes lit up at the sight of Phil, and his smile was still infections behind the breathing mask. Phil smiled back and carefully walked over to the couch, being greeted by Clint and his teacher. He looked over to Miss Marie, who coaxed him closer to the two on the couch. “I just thought that maybe seeing a friend would help Clint feel better,” she explained smiling over at Phil. He looked back at Clint who was pointing over at his penguin, trying to say something, but it was coming out muffled by the mask. 

“He’s saying he’s getting penguin medicine,” smiled Abby as she set the book down. Phil glanced over at the penguin and carefully reached out to touch it. “Medince?”

Clint nodded before managing to slip the mask off. “Cool penguin medicine!”

“You feel better?”

“Yup! Me got penguin. He makes me feel better,” said the toddler with a cheeky grin. Miss Abby checked her watch and adjusted the mask back over Clint’s face, saying “Ten more minutes of penguin time Clint,” as Phil looked on. 

He watched Clint for bit for asking, in a shy voice, “Do you wanna see Lola later?” Suddenly, Clint perked up, and the teachers looked over at Phil in shock, before he added ,”Only see, no touching.” Both teachers looked at each other with wide eyes and a smile, not saying a word as the two children carried on conversation. “Okay! Me won’t touch!!”

True to his word, the next day, Phil was in Lola when Clint came out, later than usual due to his bronchitis treatment with his penguin, that Phil actually got out of Lola ad held his hand while showing him the inside of Lola, pointing to the various buttons and contraptions on the car, explain in great detail was it does. It actually a few days later that, much to all the teacher’s utter shock, that Phil actually let Clint into Lola, and even pushed him around in the car, since Clint could ready drive himself yet. 

With the help of Clint, Phil began playing around with more kids, Clint asking him one day if he wanted to help Steve and Natasha defeat a monster using his car, to which Phil hesitantly agreed (not without scowling at the other two about touching Lola, but letting them look at her none the less). Soon, the four of them were stuck in their own world, Clint riding in Lola while carrying a pail of leaves, which served as food, as Phil rushing him over as fast as he could where Steve and Natasha were fighting the invisible monster that threaten to take away their cookies, all the while, Phil having a big, bright smile on his face.

Mrs. Coulson had heard about Phil’s progress from his teacher, and while she was excited and extremely proud of her son, sometimes she found it hard to picture. Phil has always been a reserved child, except when it came to Lola, which she still curses her sister for buying him some days. It wasn’t until one day, that she actually got to see it with her own two eyes. Mrs. Coulson had decided to pick up her son before lunch time, having gotten done with a meeting early, thus having the rest of the day off. When she arrived, she stopped in her tracks at the sight of Phil, playing the a Little Tike care that looked similar to the Lola he had at home. However, what made her smile, and nearly shed a tear, was the fact that he was playing mechanic with a little blonde boy, both wearing hard hats and belts with tools hanging from them, Phil working on one side, the other little boy working on the opposite. 

She opened the door as quietly as she could, hearing their chatter over the sounds of other playing children.

“Let’s make Lola fly!!”

“Okay, but we need to get her tires fixed first.”

“And then Lola fly! Like a birdy!! Really, really high,” said Clint as he pointed up to the sky, his hat falling over his eyes as while grinned over at him.

Mrs. Coulson smiled let her hand come over her mouth in an attempt to hide her smile. This was a moment. She fished her phone out of her purse and focused on on the two boys, zooming in to take in the car and their faces clearly before calling out Phil’s name. “Phil!” 

Both boys looked up to Mrs. Coulson as the camera clicked. Phil smiled brightly, tossing his hat to the side as he ran into his mother’s arms. She picked him up and planted a big kiss on his cheek. “So,” she started, setting him down and kneeling to their eye level, “Who’s your friend, Philip?”

Phil beamed as he ran over and grabbed Clint by the hand and brought him over to his mom to see. “This is my friend, Clint.” The said blonde boy suddenly became very shy and only muttered a ‘Hi’ before Phil continued one “He’s helping me take care of Lola! To make her fly!”

Mrs. Coulson gave Clint a warm smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Is that so? Well, it’s nice to meet you Clint. I’m happy to see you and Phil having fun, but I’m going to take Phil home early.”

Phil looked hesitant for a moment, looking between Clint, Lola, and his mom for a few moments, before his mom went to talk to one of the teachers. He turned to Lola one more time before taking off his tool belt and fishing in his pocket for something while Clint looked on. The older toddler fished out a bright red plastic key, which he had long along decided would be Lola’s key. He held to key close to himself before holding it out for Clint. “You take care of Lola?” Clint’s eyes widen, and nodded furiously “Okay, you can touch Lola, but no scratches!” He nodded again as he took the key, just as Phil’s mom came back.

“Darling, ready to go?” Phil nodded over to his mother before looking back at Clint, who know had the red key in his chubby little fist, protecting it with all his power. Mrs. Coulson smiled as she fixed his backpack into place, before letting one of the teachers open the door for her. Phil waved goodbye to Clint, and then said goodbye to his teacher, holding on to his mother’s hand with a smile, knowing Lola was going to be just fine with Clint.

\--------------

(21 years later)

“Oh my God, your mom wasn’t kidding.”

Phil looked up from the book he had been reading for his research paper, a single eye brow quirked when Clint walked into the living room of their apartment, a letter in hand and what appeared to be a photograph in the other. “About what?” 

Clint flopped himself down on the sofa next to him, Phil’s arm curling around the blonde as he showed him the picture. Phil actually had to take off his glasses for a moment before taking a closer look at it. It was old, because who would really be printing out photos now and days unless it was to frame, and a little worn along the edges, but fairly well taken care of. In the picture, there were two young toddlers, boys, both wearing matching hard hats and tool belts, as well as matching grins. In between them, a red Little Tike. Phil turned the photo over to see his mother’s familiar cursive handwriting, slightly faded- Phil (age 3) and Clint (age 2) at the Child Development Center as well as the date of the photo written beneath the caption. 

“Huh…” said Phil, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked over the picture. He quickly saved his progress on his paper before closing the laptop and setting it on the floor.

“Your mom says you name the car at daycare Lola, and that you actually had the same car at home also named Lola…I’m starting to think you have a thing for the name Lola,” said Clint as he took the picture from Phil, as passed him the letter. 

“What can I say, I take after my dad sometimes. I remember having the car at home, and calling her Lola, but the one at the daycare, not so much,” he chuckled. He did remember the car though, and how much he loved the thing, even he the tires didn’t work and the stickers, no matter how hard he tried to keep them pristine condition, started to peel and then disappear. 

“That’s not what she says,” sang Clint, watching as Phil read through his mother’s letter. He and Clint had met during their freshman year of college , Phil being a Pre-Law major, and Clint, Pre-Physical Therapy, who just so happened to be on an archery scholarship. They ended up as roommate who could stand each other, but ended up dating by the summer. When Phil had taken Clint up to Boston to meet his parents, Julie Coulson automatically recognized him, saying that he and Phil went to school together at one point. Both men had looked at her as if she had gone insane, but after talking about it, they found it was actually true, but they still wanted the picture as proof. It took her nearly two years to find the picture, and then another year to send it off. “Damn….look how little we were. She wasn’t joking when she said he knew each other when we were in diapers.”

“No, she wasn’t,” smiled Phil, letting Clint shift beside him until he was comfortable, curled up against his side, “But I’m pretty sure I was already potty trained by the time I was three.”

“Okay, fine, when one of us was in diapers,” laughed Clint, then humming in content as Phil began running soothing circles with his fingertips under the hem of the archer’s shirt. “We should tell people we were daycare sweethearts.”

“Imagine the looks on their faces,” muttered Phil as he took the picture from Clint and set it down on his closed laptop, bringing the blonde into a kiss. He pulled away, placing another gentle kiss on his forehead before moving Clint and himself until the younger of the two was resting against his chest, while Phil leaned against the arm rest of the sofa. They stayed like that for a while, before Clint broke the silence. “Let’s go out tonight. You, me and Lola, it’s supposed to be clear tonight. We can get ourselves some beers, maybe even catch a movie at the old drive-in.”

“Don’t you have qualifiers tomorrow?” It was actually one of the biggest archery meets of the year, and one of Clint’s last as a senior undergraduate. On top of that, those who qualified in the top three spots get into the Olympic Qualifiers. 

“Yeah, but I wanna do something just to relax,” started Clint, letting fingers trace unreadable patterned on Phil’s shirt. “And you have a research proposal due in two weeks, you can take it easy, too.” Technically, that was true. Phil already graduated with his Pre-Law degree and got accepted into the Law School the day of his graduation. 

“Hmm,” thought Phil, letting his hand sneak underneath Clint’s shirt, fingers traveling up warm skin of his spine, making Clint shiver involuntarily. “I think we can make some arrangements,” and heck, after all, he had just finished washing Lola.

Smiling up at Phil from the spot on his chest, Clint’s eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint, placing a kiss along his collarbone. “Does that mean I get to touch Lola?”  
“We’ll see about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I work as a Assistant Teacher with 2-3 years old, and when I read the prompt, on AdamentSteve's tumblr, I already had images in my head from work and of my students and just how darn possessive the cane get over stuff, especially when they claim it. So I write this from experience lol.
> 
> The Nebulizer that baby!Clint uses for his Bronchitis Treatment is real, and I know a lot of teachers who are trained to administer it if a parent allows us to, and sometimes the kids don't mind it, and other times, well, it's just down right difficult to keep them still and to keep them from tearing off thier mask or inhaler during treatment, even during breaks.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
